


Fear This

by unfolded73



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the events of "Fear Her," Rose tries to work out what it means to be in a relationship with the Doctor.  There is also a Ten II/Rose sequel here: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1064869">Feel This</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear This

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published August 14, 2009. Beta'd by fid_gin. She went above and beyond the normal duties of beta reading, and helped me to figure out how to write this. I think it's safe to say that without her, this wouldn't have gotten written. I wrote this fic after I mentioned the "Are you deducting?" scene in "Fear Her" in a Top 5 list of sexual tension moments.

It’s odd, the fact that she’s having sex with him. 

Initially, in those first few days after Krop Tor when things finally _happened_ , Rose had been giddy, bouncing off the walls of her own mind even as she tried to act cool. She finds the sentence echoing through her brain at the most inappropriate times, when she really needs to be focused on other things: _I’m having sex with the Doctor._

Just now, for example, when she is supposed to be helping him with TARDIS repair work before they can head off on their next adventure. _(“Near future. You’ll love it.”_ ) Rose leans down and passes him the spanner he asks for, and all she can think about is licking his Adam’s apple, which she has an excellent vantage point on as he lies underneath the console. Although if she were honest, she’d have to admit that she’s been having thoughts like that long before anything came of them. Still, knowing what it’s like, being able to imagine making love to him with complete clarity, in surround sound.... 

 

_She was fresh from a shower, muscles sore from endless crawling through tunnels on the sanctuary base and brain still a bit groggy from being drugged, and she couldn’t believe this was the way it was happening._

_“I’ve been trying not to want ... more physical intimacy with you. Trying to be satisfied with holding your hand.” He looked at his own hand as if the script for this awkward seduction was contained on his palm. “I’m not sure why I’m not, actually. It’s really not in my nature to want ... wellll, to want ... sexual intercourse.” Rose tried not to laugh and ended up making a sort of choked gasp._

_He took a step closer to her, met her eyes for a fleeting second. “I’m fairly certain, based on the hormones and pheromones that I can routinely detect on your skin, that you would be amenable to such a development in our relationship. Am I correct?”_

_No point in being embarrassed, she thought to herself furiously, trying not to blush. He was basically confessing to feeling the same way. “Doctor?”_

_“Yes, Rose?”_

_“I think it might be best if you stopped talking and kissed me.”_

 

“Rose?” 

“Hmm?”

“I said, hand me the binary neuropathometer.” His hand gestures impatiently at her from underneath the console, just a disembodied arm and a voice. “Didn’t you hear me?” 

“Sorry,” she responds, picking up the requested item and putting it in his outstretched hand. 

“I need to test the TARDIS’ responses when I stimulate her quantum memory circuits,” he narrates. “See if she’s got any neurological failings.” 

“He didn’t mean ‘failings,’ old girl.” Rose pats the edge of the console above where she is seated on the grated floor. “Don’t hold it against him.” She hears the Doctor snort with amusement. 

The fact is, she’s quite self-conscious about how much she desires him, even about how happy she is that they are lovers. It’s not that she expected sex to simplify things, but she thought that with her feelings for him out in the open, with their relationship firmly in the “romantic” column, she could relax a bit. But as much as he seems pleased with the way things have developed between them, to say that she doesn’t really understand his feelings would be an gross understatement. 

“Done!” the Doctor pronounces as he scrabbles out from under the console. He rubs his hands off on his trouser legs, grinning at Rose. “She’s ship shape.” They are sitting on the floor together, and he bumps one knobby knee against her elbow. 

Rose puts her hand on his knee, squeezing it and watching his eyes for a clue as to how to proceed. Repairs are done and it will be on to the next adventure unless he wants to be waylaid. She knows she wants to waylay him. She gives him an impish grin as she slides her hand up his thigh, the thin fabric of his trousers wrinkling under her hand. The Doctor leans over and presses his lips to hers, a chaste kiss, a kiss purely for the touch of skin to skin. So much of his desires seem to revolve around just being physically close to her, and sometimes she wonders if he would be just as satisfied by stripping their clothes off and cuddling together like two hibernating animals as he is by sex. Although, he does seem to really like sex.

 

 _“This feels ..._ brilliant _.”_

_Rose could give him nothing but a breathy cry in response as he thrust hard into her again._

_“Really, it’s ...” He was panting, slightly out of breath, but it didn’t stop him talking. “You feel better than I could even have imagined.” And she was grateful for the positive review, really, but how could he be so coherent? She slid her hands down and clutched his bum, pulling him impossibly deep as she raised her hips to meet him. She was pleased when he groaned, small beads of sweat popping out on his forehead._

_It wasn’t long before she came, and she spared a thought to be impressed at how easily he had gotten her there with just the talented movement of his pelvis and the friction of his cock inside her. Through her spasms she could feel him still moving, chasing his own release, and she was relieved to see when he came that he was just like any other bloke, face screwed up and teeth clenched as his whole body tensed above her._

 

There is no question that sex gives him physical pleasure. She can testify to the fact that he has orgasms with regularity. But any illusion that he is a regular bloke is just that. For one thing, he seems to be more in control of his body than a human man possibly could be. Mickey said he used to think about cricket sometimes, to delay the inevitable, but it wasn’t a foolproof system; there were still plenty of occasions when she was left hanging and Mickey was left apologizing. With the Doctor, that just never happens. Doesn’t matter how long it takes her to come, he’s able to hold out. She knows she should be thrilled, that she’s hit some kind of sex jackpot, but she can’t help thinking that it is one more alien thing about him. 

He breaks their kiss suddenly. “Come on,” he says, hopping to his feet and reaching down for her hand to pull her up after. “Time to get a move on.” He begins his dance around the console, adjusting settings and moving levers and she watches him, aroused by the lithe grace of his movements and the taste of his mouth that lingers on her lips. She sighs. She knows he can hold a lot of things in his brain at one time, but it still would be nice to see evidence that it distracts him sometimes, the thought of them together.

 

_He caressed her arm, their skin sticky and sweaty where their naked bodies met, but she didn’t want to not be touching him. She could feel the gentle pressure of his lips against the top of her head._

_“Was that okay?” he asked softly, and Rose couldn’t help but giggle._

_“_ Okay _? It was a bit more than okay.” She looked up at him. “You didn’t notice that I ...?”_

_“Oh, yes, of course I noticed.” His knuckles brushed her cheek. “Just making sure that you don’t regret anything, is all.”_

_Her breath caught at the vulnerable note in his voice. “Never. Are_ you _okay?” she asked, holding her breath as she waited for him to answer._

_“Yes,” he said finally, his voice deep and intimate. He leaned in and kissed her, slow and wet, and Rose didn’t think she could possibly be any happier._

 

They step out of the TARDIS together, and Rose is delighted to learn they are in London in 2012. She links arms with the Doctor, excited for their next adventure, excited to be with the man she loves. 

 

*** 

“Are you deducting?”

“Permission to follow up, Sarge.” 

He is leaning close to her, a silly snarl on his face as he probably imagines his fictional police sergeant might behave. “Permission granted,” he says, still mostly in-character. Rose can’t resist the impulse to lean over and kiss him, caught up as she is in their giddy by-play. His lips are cool and dry, and although he meets the pressure of her lips with his own, his mouth stays closed. Somewhat deterred, Rose pulls away. “Constable Lewis, that’s hardly appropriate behaviour for the workplace,” the Doctor says with a flirtatious smile. 

Rose meets his smile with her own. If that’s the way he wants to play, she’s game. She slides her arms around him, letting her hands come to rest low on his back and begins kissing him just above the collarbone, pleased with the open-collared shirt he’s chosen to wear. “Since when have you been concerned with appropriate behaviour?” she murmurs. 

He hums deep in his throat, clearly satisfied with what she is doing, which makes it that much more surprising when he detaches her a moment later and steps toward the doors of the TARDIS. “Hold that thought,” he says. “I don’t want to forget where to pick up after we’ve solved this thing.” 

Rose stands against the console and stares at him, her heart rate still elevated. “What?” 

“The girl, remember? It was your idea. To go see the girl?” His expression is bemused. 

“Oh,” she says, trying not be disappointed. He’s right, they are in the middle of an investigation, she thinks, a flush coming to her cheeks. “I just thought we were ...” she blurts, then waves her hand vaguely. 

The Doctor walks back to stand next to her. “Thought we were what?” 

“I thought you were flirting and ... you know.” Her blush deepens. “Never mind. Let’s go.” 

“Oh!” the Doctor says, a light clearly dawning. “I see. Before, when we were roleplaying, you were interpreting it as sexual.” He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Which, now that I think about it, is a valid interpretation of the way I was behaving. Sorry.” 

Rose doesn’t know whether to feel better or not. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, starting to walk out. The Doctor grabs her around the waist as she moves away from him and hauls her against him. 

“No really, I’m sorry. I’m a bit rubbish at this, you know that.” He kisses her then, one of his thorough, meticulous kisses. She’s found them to be impossibly sexy up until that moment, his controlled way of exploring her mouth. Now she just finds it sort of annoying. After a long moment, the Doctor’s kiss trails off to small nibbles at her lower lip. “If you want to have sex, then so do I,” he says, punctuating the words with a shallow thrust of his hips. Rose can’t help wondering if the erection she can feel pressed against her belly is merely voluntary on the Doctor’s part. She pulls out of his arms, no longer in the mood. 

“Nah, you were right. We need to go see the girl.” The moment is lost, and she feels flustered and wrong-footed. 

He touches her cheek, the look on his face open and earnest, and Rose feels bad for being irritated with him. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” she says, giving him a peck on the lips. “Like you said, hold that thought.” 

Later, he gives her a proud look when her idea turns out to be right; Chloe Webber is more than just a little girl, and her drawings are more than just drawings. They stand in the kitchen talking, and when she catches him sticking his fingers in a random jar of marmalade and licking them, she’s mostly disgusted. It’s a little bit sexy, in that it reminds her of other things he can do with his tongue, but mostly it’s embarrassing. He’s so alien, she thinks to herself. In some ways, it’s these little things that bother her more than the big ones. The fact that he’s hundreds of years old, the last of his species, that he speaks every language in the universe, these are things that she’s dealt with. It’s these little idiosyncrasies that bother her, that remind her when she most doesn’t want to be reminded, that he’s so different from her. 

 

*** 

After the fireworks are over, they begin their wander back to the TARDIS for the night, ready for a full day of Olympic events on the morrow. Rose is so relieved to be with him again that all her discomfort from earlier has melted away, and she just wants him to hold her. Well, perhaps she wants more than that. 

The Doctor is babbling about everything and nothing at all; he’s been going at it full tilt since his warning of a “storm approaching,” and Rose knows he’s doing his best to make her forget he ever said anything of the sort. Right now, she’s perfectly happy to let him pretend. It’s a night for lost things being found, and she wants to imagine, just for one night, that nothing bad will ever threaten them again. That things will always be like this. 

As soon as the doors of the TARDIS close behind him, the Doctor pulls her close, kissing her with more passion than he usually shows. She can feel the scrape of his teeth against her lips. Her heartbeat speeds up, and she tries to focus on how good it feels and not on the worries that might be making him behave this way. 

He leads her to bed, undressing her reverently and slowly, something in his eyes making her feel adored. Things happen with a breathless inevitability, and it’s almost too soon that she is poised to take him inside her, straddling his slim hips, his erection in her hand. She isn’t sure what makes her stop, makes her ask.

“If I were to stop, right now – say I had a headache or something, would you be frustrated?”

He blinks at her. This is clearly near the bottom of the list of things he expected her to say. “You have a headache?”

“No, it’s a hypothetical question. Would you?”

“I’d be disappointed.” His hips move under her, just slightly. 

“Yeah, but would you be frustrated? Me getting you all aroused like this, and then nothing – would that affect you?”

Propping himself up on his elbows, he eyes her. “What are you asking me, Rose?” He tips her off of him and she collapses on the bed, looking up into his face. 

“Sex is different for you, isn’t it? Different than the way it is for a human.”

He shrugs. “Don’t know, never been human. But yeah, I imagine it is.” He leans down and kisses her above the swell of her breasts. “Tell me what it’s like for you,” he murmurs against her skin.

“I don’t ... I don’t know how to describe it.”

The Doctor looks at her earnestly. “Try.” 

She can tell he genuinely wants to know. “It’s ... it’s like a ... hunger, I guess. And when you look at me, or touch me, or kiss me ... it’s such a rush, and I want more. More and more and more until ...” She blushes and bites her lip.

“Until you reach orgasm?”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Until I come, yeah.”

“Are the words I use too clinical?” he asks, watching her expression.

She starts to agree, but then shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. You should speak the way you want to.” She combs her fingers through his hair. “So sex isn’t like that for you?”

He rolls over and looks at the ceiling in contemplation. “It’s not so different, I suppose. But it’s telling that you use the word ‘hunger.’ Food is something that you require to live.”

Rose giggles. “Well, it’s not like I need sex to live.”

“Not in the strictest sense, no. But humans do need sex. Humans who are celibate for long periods of time ... it’s not healthy.”

She presses her body against him. “But it’s healthy for _you_?”

He sighs. “My people lived for thousands of years. We couldn’t be mating like rabbits, or we’d soon have filled the universe with Time Lords.”

“Might not have been such a bad thing.”

The Doctor’s laugh is cold. “You never met them. I idealize my home sometimes now that it’s gone, but there’s a reason I ran away and hardly ever went back.” He smirks sadly. “A universe full to bursting with Time Lords would be better than one full to bursting with Daleks, but only just.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh.” Propping herself up on an elbow, Rose begins combing her fingers through the Doctor’s hair again, and he closes his eyes.

“Which is not to say that Time Lords were asexual,” he says, picking up the thread of their original conversation.

Rose snorts with laughter. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re not asexual.” She leans over and kisses her way down his chest to his abdomen. “In fact, I’m certain of it.”

The Doctor’s hand comes to rest on the back of her head. “But I don’t experience the same overwhelming need that you humans do.” He sighs. “Maybe it’s just because I’m so old.”

Rose moves her mouth over his hipbone, enjoying the shape of the muscles underneath his skin. “So you were a horny bastard when you were young?”

Another sigh. “Not really.”

She looks up at him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Do you masturbate?”

“That’s a rather private question,” he says, his voice rising in pitch.

Rose leans down and takes his cock into her mouth without warning, and the Doctor gasps in response. She pulls off just as suddenly. “This is a rather private thing I’m doing. You get pleasure from being touched here,” she says, stroking his cock, now slick with her saliva. “I just wondered.”

“Do _you_ masturbate?” he asks.

“Of course I do.” She is feeling fearless and unashamed, still stroking him. “Now answer the question.”

“I have before,” he says, and she imagines, based on the look on his face, that he is trying to remember how many regenerations ago that was. “But it’s not a regular occurrence.”

She laughs then. “As if I needed more proof that you’re alien.”

“Does that bother you?” he asks, and it’s times like these that he seems so fragile, when he lets her see how much he needs her. 

“No,” she says, and right now it’s true. She moves over him again, guiding his cock inside her like she had been about to do before all this talking started. His head tips back and his eyelashes flutter, and Rose feels overwhelmingly powerful. She’s reduced this ancient creature to a man, allowing himself physical pleasure for once, with her. She almost tells him she loves him, but the words stick in her throat.

He moans as she rotates her hips, rising up off of him and then lowering herself down again, and his hands come to rest on her thighs. “Every move you make sends sparks of sensation straight from my penis to the pleasure centres in my brain.” Rose bites her lip to keep the laugh in, but he sees. “What?”

“Your dirty talk could use some work.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It could stand to be less like a neurology lesson.”

They are still moving together. “Tell me what to say,” he whispers as his hips rise off the bed.

“What do you like about my body?”

“I like everything about your body.” His hands slide up her waist to her breasts. “I like the way it curves. I like how soft your skin is. I like how fast your heart beats when we’re having sex.” He pulls her and she pitches forward, changing the angle of their coupling. His lips settle over her heart and he simply presses them there, to her breastbone, before he moves his mouth down and rakes his tongue over her breast. “And I love the way you taste.”

They are moving faster now and Rose can feel the beginning of her orgasm coiling low in her abdomen. “Tell me you want me,” she says before she can second-guess the words.

“I do. Oh, Rose, I do. I want you, and I want _this_ with you, and I don’t know how or why or ...” He’s close to coming; she’s learning to recognise the signs, but she also knows he can hold himself on that edge indefinitely. “I ...” She holds her breath, waiting for him to say it, but he doesn’t. He leans up and kisses her hard, and when she comes, her cries are muffled by his mouth. He lets himself fall immediately after, his hands trembling where they are pressed against her back.

The Doctor eases her down, guiding her to pillow her head on his chest. “I _need_ this,” he murmurs after a lengthy silence, and she wonders if that was what he was going to say before. “It’s frightening, actually.” 

Rose closes her eyes. He will hold her until she sleeps, and when he slips out of bed later, she likely won’t notice. “Nothing to be afraid of,” she mumbles sleepily, “S’just us.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees in a husky whisper. “Just us.”


End file.
